


Not Even Cake

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Birthday, Jack is a Grump, M/M, Sam Probably Stink-Eyes Him for a Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10681521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: “So if I walked in here with a cake, right now, you’d say no just because you’re fifty?” Daniel asked.“Of course not,” Jack said, waving his arms again. “It’s cake, for god’s sake. But I’m still fifty. Not even cake can fix that.”





	Not Even Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/166261.html?thread=8856181#cmt8856181) as a comment fic.
> 
> Originally part of an anthology post, hated the post, reposting alone. :)

“Happy birthday, Colonel,” Sam said as Jack sat down with his breakfast, joining the rest of the team, already eating.

Jack gave Sam a tight smile. “Thank you, Major, but I’d really rather focus on where we’re going today.”

Sam raised her eyebrows, but it was Teal’c who replied, “We do not have an off-world mission today, Colonel O’Neill. We are to take a day of rest, and to complete our paperwork from P3J-799.”

Jack’s tight smile slipped into a scowl. “Great. Amazing. Just what I wanted to hear.”

“We had thought if we all finished our reports early, we could go out for your birthday,” Sam said, maintaining her cheer despite Jack’s obvious annoyance.

“No, Major, that won’t be necessary,” Jack said. He looked down at his food. “On second thought, I’m not that hungry. Reports to finish and all. So much more enticing.” Before anyone at the table could reply, Jack picked his tray back up and disposed of it before walking out of the commissary. Sam and Daniel exchanged a look that was mostly eyebrows before a silent agreement to leave Jack alone was reached.

It was a few hours before Daniel saw Jack again, and it took more than a little effort. General Hammond had told him that Jack had turned in his report fairly quickly, and then left the SGC. That meant Daniel needed to track him back to his house, and that could easily go bad.

For whatever reason, Jack was in a mood. Generally, when Jack was in a mood, Daniel kept clear. He wasn’t a fan of arguments outside the academic, and Jack in a mood meant that an argument was unavoidable. 

But it was Jack’s birthday. If the sum total of his plans were to sit at home, get drunk, and be cranky at the world, Daniel owed it to him to at least show up and tell him he was being an idiot in person.

Daniel had correctly predicted Jack’s entertainment. When he knocked on Jack’s door, the colonel answered with beer in hand and scowl on face. “Daniel,” Jack said. 

“Jack,” Daniel replied, raising an eyebrow and pointedly looking past Jack into the house.

“By all means,” Jack said, walking away from the open door and in the general direction of his living room.

Daniel swung the door shut behind him before hanging his coat on the rack and following after Jack. After a few minutes of sitting in silence while Jack drank his beer and stared out the window, Daniel said, “Any reason in particular you’re acting like an ass?”

Jack scowled, but Daniel kept the blankly inquisitive look on his face until Jack replied, “Yes, Daniel, there is.”

“Are you going to share?” Daniel asked.

Waving his beer, Jack asked, “What, the beer, or why I’m being an ass?”

“Both, ideally,” Daniel said, shrugging. “But I’ll settle for the latter.”

Jack pulled a second beer out of a small cooler Daniel hadn’t noticed was next to Jack’s chair and tossed it to Daniel, who caught it awkwardly, condensation making his grip less than perfect. As Daniel twisted the cap off, Jack said, “I’m fifty, Daniel. Fifty.”

Daniel paused in taking a drink of his beer to give Jack a look. “So?” he asked, finishing his drink.

“Fifty!” Jack said again, his time with accompanying gesture of extravagance. “You know, five-oh, fifty, however the fuck else you say it.”

“And again,” Daniel said, “so? You’re fifty. This is hardly the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Jack snorted.

“Seriously?” Daniel asked. “Jack, you’re a day older than yesterday. Sure, it’s the day you’ve officially turned fifty, but why is the year a problem? It’s your birthday.” Daniel raised both his eyebrows. “Can’t you focus on that part? You know, the part that usually comes with cake.” He shook his beer. “Cake and beer. Generally, I’m pretty sure you’re a fan of those.”

“Not when they come attached to the number fifty,” Jack said, giving Daniel an annoyed look. 

“So if I walked in here with a cake, right now, you’d say no just because you’re fifty?” Daniel asked.

“Of course not,” Jack said, waving his arms again. “It’s cake, for god’s sake. But I’m still fifty. Not even cake can fix that.”

“Jack, why is fifty such a big deal? You didn’t throw a fit when you turned forty-nine. In fact, you ate half a cake and sang really bad karaoke, just because Sam dared you to.” Daniel smiled. “Why is fifty any different?”

“Because, Daniel,” Jack said, using the tone he tended to pick up when he felt as though what he was explaining ought to be common knowledge. “Fifty is old. When you’re fifty, you’re officially old.”

Daniel snorted, causing Jack’s scowl to deepen. “God, Jack. If a number can make you old, that’s the most impressive magic I’ve ever seen.” He rolled his eyes. “If you weren’t old yesterday, you’re not old today.” Setting his beer down on the side table, Daniel continued, “And you upset Sam this morning, you know. She planned dinner and something ridiculous to celebrate. Teal’c even bought you a gift.”

“I’ll apologize tomorrow,” Jack said, though he sounded somewhat guilty. 

“Fine,” Daniel said. He picked his beer back up and let Jack sit for a bit before asking, “Jack, why does getting old bother you?”

Jack gave Daniel another frustrated look. “Doesn’t it bother everyone?”

Daniel shrugged. “I’m not overly concerned about it. Maybe about some of the side effects, like my vision getting worse, but getting old is just something that happens, isn’t it? So long as you live that long.”

“Ah, side effects. First go the joints, then the senses, then the metabolism falls through the floor,” Jack said, mock-wistfully.

“Yes, sure,” Daniel said. “But are any of those worse than, say, not being alive for them to happen? It’s not like you stop living, just because you get old. You can still do everything today that you could do yesterday, Jack.” He raised his eyebrows. “Worry about everything else when it actually happens.”

Taking a long drink from his beer, Jack said, “Oh, I only listed the things that already have.”

Daniel gave Jack an obvious once-over. “You don’t seem particularly decrepit to me.”

Jack snorted. “I think my angle might be a bit better than yours,” he said, making a slight gesture to himself.

“Oh, really,” Daniel said lightly, standing up. He set his now-empty beer back on the side table. Daniel walked over to where Jack was seated and stood in front of him. “No,” he said, crossing his arms, “I still don’t see it.”

“Daniel—“ Jack started, but Daniel cut him off by setting one knee down on the edge of Jack’s chair and leaning into his personal space.

“Jack,” Daniel said softly, “you’re being ridiculous. It’s your birthday. Forget Sam’s plans, and Teal’c actually going shopping for you, you ruined _my_ plans.”

“Oh,” Jack said, setting down his beer on the cooler beside him. “And those were?”

“For us to both get very pleasantly drunk, get very pleasantly naked, and have nice, athletic sex,” Daniel replied.

Jack put a bracing hand on Daniel’s forearm where it was leaning on the arm of the arm. “And I ruined that,” Jack repeated.

Daniel shrugged. “I mean, how are you going to fuck me if, as you say, you’re old and falling apart?” He smiled a little. “Not to mention that whenever you’re in a shitty mood, you get worse in bed.”

“God damn it,” Jack said, “I do not.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Daniel leaned in and cut him off, pressing in a slow, thorough kiss. 

Daniel smiled into the kiss when Jack wrapped one hand around his neck to deepen it, and instead pulled back and grabbed the front of Jack’s sweater to drag him along. “Feel free to prove me wrong,” he said as he dragged Jack onto his feet.

“See if I don’t,” Jack said, pressing forward and into Daniel’s space. “Jesus, Daniel,” he muttered, pushing Daniel back and toward the bedroom.

“Happy birthday,” Daniel said, and laughed at Jack’s attempt to scowl while still running his hands up the back of Daniel’s shirt.


End file.
